


The Other Fork in the Path

by jackabelle73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackabelle73/pseuds/jackabelle73
Summary: An alternate ending to a scene from 1x21, "An Apple Red as Blood."





	The Other Fork in the Path

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Rumbelle Christmas in July 2019 fic for @boushh2187 on Tumblr. Their prompt was: daring escape, adventure, reunion, banter. I considered several other ideas to fill the prompt, but it matched so nicely with an idea that I had from a long time ago but never wrote, that I just had to go with this.

_Tap, tap, tap_ on the pawn shop floor. 

The thud of Regina’s shoes told him she was approaching again, but Rumple didn’t look up from the ledger where he was pretending to take inventory. She was becoming more desperate by the moment, and he relished every second of it. He’d always known, back in the Enchanted Forest, that he was the one pulling her strings. She may have thought she was in charge for the past twenty-eight years, but that was only a function of the curse, and the decades spent under her thumb were a price he’d been more than willing to pay. It would all be worth it, when the curse broke and he was able to leave Storybrooke, and he could finally, _finally_ , search for his boy. 

“I want to strike a new deal,” Regina said, clearly expecting him to agree. After all, he was the Dark One, and everyone knew the Dark One couldn’t resist a deal. “One where I can get rid of Emma without shattering the curse.”

“Unfortunately for you, a negotiation requires two interested parties. And… I’m already planning a trip.” He smirked at her before turning his back on her again, moving to the other counter to take pointless notes in another book. 

“I’ll give you anything.” 

The plaintive note in her voice was clear, even without turning to see her expression. For a single beat of his darkened heart, he almost felt sorry for her. For all her flaws, and all of her treacherous deeds -- some of which he had driven her to commit -- she loved Henry. He had no doubt of that. He knew how much it hurt to lose a son, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. 

The Darkness whispered to him that it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have Regina in his debt. She might be useful to him again, in the future. Anything could happen once the curse broke. He could figure out a way to guarantee that Regina kept Henry, while at the same time ensuring that Miss Swan would still be able to break the curse. The queen’s plea for her son triggered sympathy in even his cold, empty heart. 

_All you’ll have, is an empty heart and a chipped cup._

Belle’s voice, from so long ago, played unbidden in his head. Her last words to him from nearly three decades ago. The last words she would _ever_ say to him. The only woman who’d ever loved him had died a terrifying death, and the woman who stood behind him now had been all too gleeful to deliver that news to him. 

His grip on the pen tightened before he turned to her, with no sympathy left as he took his turn delivering bad news to her. 

“Oh… you no longer have anything that I want, dearie.” 

He smiled at her stricken expression, and continued his charade of documenting the shop’s contents. His next words made his pen stop moving. 

“That’s not true. I do have something you want. Something you want very much.” 

He abandoned all pretense of working to study her. She was trying to keep her expression neutral, but he knew her well. The light in her eyes, the smile trying to lift the corners of her mouth… she believed she had a bargaining chip against him, but he couldn’t imagine what that could be. And no bargaining chip was worth jeopardizing his chance to find Bae, so he answered her in a bored, dismissive tone. 

“I find that hard to believe. And since you have nothing to offer me, this conversation is over.” He strolled casually toward the back room, and reached the curtain before her voice stopped him again. 

“Do you want to take the chance of missing out on a reunion with the only person you’ve ever loved?” 

He paused, standing with his back to her for a long moment. He finally turned with slow deliberation. “The only person I’ve ever loved, has been beyond my reach for centuries. And if he’s beyond my reach, he’s definitely beyond yours.” 

She let herself smile this time, a slow curve of the lips that told him she really did have something he wanted. 

“Ahh… but we’re not talking about the same person.” She smirked at his shock, as the only possible answer occurred to him. But it wasn’t possible… was it? “When you’re ready to deal, you know where to find me.” She sauntered out, satisfied that she’d gotten the upper hand. 

The bell was still vibrating as he made his way into the back room and lowered himself to the cot, weight braced on his cane. 

All these years of the curse, of not remembering Belle… and all the time since his memories returned and his heart ached every time he thought of her, of her bright smile and constant questions about his travels, the way she didn’t hesitate to be near him… and the way she’d kissed him. He could still feel her lips on his, could still smell her scent like roses in sunlight… all that time, and he’d never considered the possibility of Belle still being alive. 

It made sense, once he considered it with cold-blooded logic from Regina’s point of view. She knew she needed a trump card to play against him, should their deal not work in her favor. And letting him believe Belle had died, while keeping her alive all these years, to flaunt before him at the opportune moment, was one hell of a trump card. The strategist in him admired Regina’s advance planning, while at the same time he burned with rage at all the years lost with Belle. 

It didn’t matter now, he told himself firmly. What mattered was that Belle was alive, and she had to be somewhere here, in Storybrooke. Regina would want to keep her close. So he just needed to figure out where she was, and go get her. 

Belle wasn’t one of the town’s citizens, living a double life with cursed memories all these years. He felt sure of that. Even with Mr. Gold’s cursed memories, he’d recognized the value of knowing everything he could about the townspeople who rented from him and brought items to the shop to pawn. He knew everyone who lived in this town, which meant that Belle was hidden somewhere. 

At Regina’s home? Could there be a secret basement or locked room at her residence? He dismissed the thought almost immediately. Regina would want plausible deniability if Belle were ever discovered, and keeping a young woman prisoner in her home was difficult to deny. 

He rose from the cot, moving quickly to a shelf where he pulled down a map of Storybrooke and skimmed over it, looking for any place where a woman could be contained for a long period without arousing suspicion. 

The hospital. His eyes landed on it, and his finger jabbed the paper second later. That was it. The hospital. David Nolan had been in a hospital bed for twenty-eight years before Emma’s arrival weakened the curse enough to wake him. He didn’t know of any other coma patients, though. 

After a moment of thinking, the obvious answer occurred to him. The hospital basement housed an asylum. His anger at Regina surged anew at the idea of Belle -- kind, brave, generous Belle -- being declared insane and locked in a cell. Regina would pay for this… after he rescued the young woman who’d done nothing but love him. 

He locked the shop and drove to the hospital, nearly hitting several residents along the way. He parked in the no-parking zone in front of the doors, knowing that no one would dare mess with his car, and proceeded through the hallways, ignoring the staff who spoke to him. He knew the layout of the hospital, because he’d made it his business to know this town. The keypad that protected entry to the basement stymied him for only a moment. He tried Regina’s birthday, and when that didn’t work, he tried Henry’s birthday, and was rewarded with a click as the door unlocked. 

He proceeded down the stairs, making no attempt to be quiet, and saw when the nurse at the desk registered his approach. She reached for the phone and was dialing frantically when his cane came down, smashing the device into uselessness and narrowly missing her fingers. He jabbed his cane at her face next, forcing her to scoot back in her rolling chair to avoid injury. He moved behind the desk and continued to move her back, till she was against the wall with no where else to go. 

“You have a young woman here, with brown hair and beautiful blue eyes.” He spoke softly, taking her wide eyes and panting breaths as proof that there was no need to yell. “You’re going to tell me which cell she’s in, and give me the keys to open that cell, or I will beat you to a pulp right here, and take great pleasure in doing it.”

The nurse reached to her belt, pulling off a ring of keys which she held up. The keys rattled against each other in her grip. “Second cell on the right.” 

“Thank you,” he mocked, taking the keys and releasing her from his glare. 

“I’ll be calling the mayor about this!” she called after him as he walked away. 

“Please do,” he answered without turning around. “I have a few choice things I would like to say to her.”

He lifted the flap in the second door on the right, to peek in before attempting to open it. The interior was dim, with only a little light coming in from one narrow, stingy window placed high in the wall, but there was enough light to see a petite figure hunched over on a bare bench. Long tangled hair covered her face, but he didn’t need to see her face to be sure. 

It was her. Alive and only a few feet away from him. He couldn’t find the right key fast enough. 

He pushed the door open, Belle lifted her head, and he saw her face for the first time in almost three decades. He hardly had time to register her plain hospital gown and bare feet before her eyes widened in fear and she scrambled back, retreating to the corner of the thin mat that served as her bed. 

“Who are you?” she asked, eyes darting to the open door behind him. 

Of course, she wouldn’t associate the scaly, leather-clad Dark One from the Enchanted Forest with the man in an expensive suit she saw now. He needed to be careful not to frighten her further; it was clear she’d already been traumatized by her experience under the curse. 

“My name is Mr. Gold, and I’ve come to help you. I’m going to take you away from this place.” 

Once again, her eyes darted to the open door behind him, before she asked, “Why would you do that?” 

“We knew each other once, a long time ago. Do you remember living in the Dark Castle?” 

“Castle?” she asked, in a tone that suggested that maybe he was the one who belonged in the asylum. 

“What do you remember?” he asked gently. 

She shook her head. “Nothing. There’s nothing before… _this_.” She waved at her cell. 

The woman who’d longed to travel the realms had spent decades in a 10x10 cell. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it, wanted to punish himself somehow because it was her association with him that had led to this, but he kept his voice calm for her. 

“I’m so sorry you’ve been held here for so long. If I’d known you were here, I would have come for you sooner. I’m here now, so what do you say we get out of here?” He stood aside, leaving a clear path to the open door, and waved a hand, inviting her to step through. 

She didn’t move from her spot in the corner, though she glanced at the hallway before looking back at him. He wanted so badly to hold her, but kept his distance. 

“Why should I trust you? How do I know that this isn’t a trick, that you won’t take me somewhere else even worse?” 

He turned back to her but was careful not to block the doorway. “How shall I prove my sincerity to you?” he asked. 

She thought about it for a moment before answering. “If we knew each other before this, then you must know my name.” 

“Yes.” He smiled in relief that her first question was so easy. He knew that not all of them would be, that he would have to tell her about how they met, and how they’d parted ways. He wasn’t looking forward to answering those questions, but this one was simple. “Your name is Belle.” 

“Belle,” she repeated, trying out the single syllable. “Belle.” 

“Yes. In one of the languages in this realm, it means beautiful.” 

“What else do you know about me?” she asked. 

His breath caught in his throat for a moment, as his voice froze with too much to say. How could he possibly summarize her in a few words? 

She was waiting, so he forced himself to start speaking. “You are… one of the kindest, most compassionate people I’ve ever known.”

From her expression, she was unimpressed. Of course… his words sounded trite. He commanded himself to focus. He needed specifics. What made Belle, _Belle_? 

“You love to read, any book you can get your hands on really,” he said, warming to his topic. “You loved the library at my… home, where I lived before this. Your favorite book was called _Her Handsome Hero_.” 

She mouthed the words of the book title to herself. 

“You wanted to travel, to explore, and have adventures like the heroes in your books.”

“Did I ever do those things?” she asked. 

“Not yet,” he admitted. “There’s still time, though. Come with me, and I’ll do everything I can to help you realize your dreams, whatever they may be.” 

He extended a hand to her, and held his breath. 

She bit her lip in thought, a gesture so familiar that he wanted to cry. 

“Can you help me remember who I am?” she asked. 

“I’ll do everything I can,” he assured her. Still she hesitated, curled so small in the corner of this chilly cell that was all she could remember, looking between his outstretched hand and the open door. He took his coat off, realizing that he should have offered it to her sooner, and held it out to her, careful not to get too close. “Please, take it. You must be cold.” 

She took it, hesitant, but slipped her arms into the sleeves and wrapped the coat tightly around herself. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said, and searched for what else to say, to convince her. “You told me once, when faced with a situation that frightened you, that you decided to do the brave thing, and hope that bravery would follow. Take my hand, Belle, and let your bravery follow you out this door. I will never harm you; I give you my word.” 

A door slammed in the hall, and she flinched. Regina’s raised voice carried to them, and Belle came to life, scrambling off the bed and grabbing his hand. 

“Let’s go,” she said, breathless with terror. 

“Here,” he said quickly, and maneuvered them to the wall next to the open door. At her questioning look, he whispered, “Just stay quiet, and trust me.” He pressed himself against the wall, trying to make himself as compact as possible, and saw her doing the same. He adjusted his grip on his cane, getting ready. 

“Where is she? You said they didn’t leave, there’s only one way out of here, how hard can it be?” Regina’s voice grew louder as she approached the door and stomped into the cell. She was barely inside before Rumple brought the handle of his cane down on her head, and she crumpled to the floor. 

“Let’s go,” he said to Belle, and they stepped over Regina’s legs to exit the cell. The nurse stood against the opposite wall, eyes wide on him. “You. Walk into that cell willingly, or you can join her on the floor.” 

He pointed his cane at her to make sure she understood, and the nurse nearly tripped over Regina’s body trying to get in the cell. 

Rumple shoved the former queen’s legs out of the way, none too gently, and asked Belle, “Would you like the honors?” 

She stared at him for a moment, before she understood. She used both hands to pull the heavy door closed, sealing her captors inside, and backed away, as if she could hardly believe what she’d just done. 

“Belle.” He held his hand out to her once again. “Come with me. I promise that your life from this point on, will be so much better.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Gold,” she said softly as she slid her fingers into his. 

“I have another name that you can call me, if you wish,” he offered as he led her to the stairs. “However, it’s going to take some explaining. Several things will take explaining, but I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

They went through the door at the top of the stairs, and emerged into the hospital hallway where staff and patients hurried by in both directions. 

Belle shaded her eyes at the sunlight coming through the windows, and looked at the scene before them with wonder. 

“I have questions,” she said. 

“Of course you do.” Curious, inquisitive Belle was still in there somewhere, and he couldn’t be more glad. “Which question would you like answered first?” 

She looked past the people who were starting to stare at them, and out the windows. “Where are we? What is this place called?” 

He ignored the people as well, and led her to the windows to get a better look outside. 

“Belle, I would like to officially welcome you to the town of Storybrooke.” 

“Storybrooke.” She smiled, the first genuine smile he’d seen from her since the day she’d walked into the castle’s Great Hall with a basket of straw. “Sounds like something from a fairytale.” 

He chuckled, drawing her attention from the windows where she was drinking in the view of the outside. 

“Sweetheart… you have _no_ idea how right you are.” 


End file.
